I didn’t even have a chance to forget that awful runoff today. I went to my allergist for a shot, and as I was leaving… there was Henry. Also waiting for a shot.
I stopped to say hi, and noticing he was wracking his brain, I said my name and took off my ball cap. That gave him the excuse to say, “I didn’t know you with the cap!” I like to give people a graceful way out like that. Anyway, we hadn’t seen each other since just before one of the debates in 2018. He’s gotten older and lost weight. So have I. (It’s that season, when I shed 20-plus pounds to fit into my short cargo pants. All my fat cargos are long.)
He told his plainclothes bodyguard, who was standing next to his chair with his back against the wall, “This is a big newspaperman!” I added, “Used to be…”
Seeing his lapel sticker (“I Voted! Did You?”), I told him I was about to. I almost said, “I plan to vote for your girl,” just because this is a situation when I could actually say that honestly, but I held back. No need to ask him who he voted for, unless he changed his mind since yesterday.
He mentioned that there was no line to vote, I said I assumed it would be that way at my place, too, and wasn’t it a shame for people to be so uninterested in voting.
That’s it. I just thought I should report the contact. I’ll comment further on today’s voting in a separate post…
Oops, just as I was hitting send on that, I remembered that I also ran into Henry a few months AFTER that 2018 debate, at Cindi Scoppe’s annual Advent Cake Party. See above.
Of course, her parties are pretty much open to ALL governors — former, current and should-have-been. Here she is with James (and our mutual friend Bud Ferillo) at the following year’s party. Sorry about the quality — that backlighting from the window’s behind them kept me from properly exposing it…